


Everything is Alright

by brightpyrite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Skype
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightpyrite/pseuds/brightpyrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is beginning to notice things he didn't even want to know the existence of. And those said things are the start to something that both disgusts and amuses him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything is Alright

**Author's Note:**

> sastiel, from Dean's pov. woah!

Dean grumbles, twisting the monitor with sharp creaks in its joints, then readjusting it into another suitable angle. "God, I hate this." When he turns on the monitor, it's at a strange angle, and he needs to repeat the process all over again. 

From the kitchen, Sam laughs at Dean's struggle, who retorts something fierce. He walks in the room, holding a nondescript bottle of inexpensive beer, and has the nerve to say, "Having trouble?"

"Shut up," Dean quips immediately, but pushes himself away from the desk, to give Sam space to work his magic anyway.

His younger brother rolls his eyes and steps over where he crooks the neck of the computer until it's eye level with Dean. "You Skyping?"

"Yeah. Cas wants to talk," Dean replies.

Sam turns the computer on, launching Skype. "Yeah? How considerate."

"You better leave before Cas sees you being such an ass to your big brother."

Sam arches his brows, taking his beer and turning toward the stairs. "Like I said, considerate."

"Go to hell, Sam." Dean clicks Cas' icon, and waits for the connection.

"Been there. Anyways, I'm taking a shower." Sam strides up the stairs easily, resembling an ostrich, Dean notes.

When he turns back to the screen, the connection has been reached, and there's Cas, looking fidgety and a bit busy. "Hello Dean."

"Hey, Cas. What's up?"

"We still haven't solified our plans for the project due on next Tuesday. I had a few ideas, but I waited to hear your input."

"Oh," Dean starts. Quite frankly, he'd forgotten about any upcoming projects that were worth fifty percent of the term grade. "Can I hear your ideas first?"

"Of course," he pulls out a few sheets of paper from his desk, flitting through each of them, "so I suggested surveying strangers upon their views of religion, and based on results, collect the mean. Another, we could just write the eight-paged essay of beliefs' effects on people psychologically; or, we can research the history of the Semitic religions and design an poster board and a model of some sort to represent our ideas." Castiel looks up. "She says we can get creative on this assignment."

"That's... great," Dean nodded, mentally cringing at the work, "but maybe we can do something a little more, I don't know, fun?"

"What exactly are you going for, Dean?" Castiel sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "Next Tuesday is just six days away."

"I don't know! Something more social, less worried about grades," Castiel's brows shoot up at this additional remark, and Dean quickly backtracks, "no, sorry, I meant like... something less boring."

"Okay," he agrees hesitantly, "what would you consider as a possibility?" Dean hears the shower faucet shut, the background noise suddenly quieted a whole lot more. On the other hand, Dean can faintly hear jazz music coming from Castiel's room and through the microphone to reach Dean's ears.

"Well. The survey is a good start."

"Alright." Castiel scribbles something down, a note most likely, in his small and neat penmanship. It's the kind of writing that Dean wouldn't be afraid to call out as "girly" if Sam did it, but somehow, it didn't apply the same to Castiel. "Anything else?"

Dean smiles goofily, suddenly caught up in a daydream. "Don't you think that Lisa Bradaen is hot?"

Castiel frowns, setting down his pen. "Yes, the new student is rather attractive. But that's entirely irrelevant."

"I'm going to ask her out on Friday."

"That's great, Dean, really. I'm incredibly happy for you, but you need to focus."

"Fine, fine."

"Hey, Dean," calls Sam from upstairs out of nowhere, "where are all the towels?"

"They're downstairs." Dean smirks at Castiel, who in exchange, cocks his head and furrows his brows.

"Don't be a jerk- nevermind, found them."

"Ah," blinks Castiel, ducking his head for reasons unknown.

"I'm going to make dinner," adds Sam, jogging down the stairs, wringing water out of his hair.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don't make anything shitty." Dean doesn't bother facing his brother as he talks because he knows Sam'll probably end up making a tossed salad to just mock him endlessly.

Sam pauses behind Dean, and waves at Castiel. "Hey, Cas. Sorry you have to put up with this moron."

Castiel opens his mouth to speak, but Dean interjects, "You can leave now, Sammy."

The younger Winchester snorts and leaves, but Castiel's open mouth stays like that for a few more lingering seconds before he shuts it.

He directs his attention back toward Castiel, "Alright, so where were we?"

"Um...," Castiel seems to be watching something in the background (behind Dean? Who knows.) with extreme scrutiny, his blue eyes intense. Like he's trying to burn an image into his brain. Definitely not focusing on Dean or anything that's coming out of his mouth.

"Hello? Earth to Cas?"

"Hm," he replies meaninglessly, his eyes trailing, but when Dean turns, there's nothing interesting to look at. Only Sam having trouble with the oven. Which is why Dean cooks frequently, and his culinary skills are rather excellent, if he does say so himself.

"Are you having some psychic moment? Are you seeing ghosts, what?" He snaps his fingers in front of the webcam, as if it'd get his friend's attention.

Castiel clears his throat, and momentarily, looks down at his lap. "Um."

"What's up?" Dean knits his brows, "Are you okay, Cas?" There's an awkward and almost palpable silence.

"Well," he finally presses out, "Sam is... very distracting."

When both Winchester's register this, they both let out a sudden, "Wait, what?" And Sam turns around immediately, as if to confront Castiel on the subject.

But much to his chagrin, Castiel disconnects almost immediately (no doubt _extremely_ embarrassed at this point), and they're left with the blinking Skype home screen. Dean stands up shakily, and walks away from the computer desk, loudly exclaiming something about "unnecessary information" and "total idiots".

And he shuts the backdoor behind him, leaving Sam in his towel (comically holding a spatula) staring incredulously at the computer.

"Huh."


End file.
